


Only In My Dreams

by SisterWine



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterWine/pseuds/SisterWine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is being haunted in his dreams by a voice and a touch. It feels so real but, it's just a dream with a created presence, or is it? </p><p>DISCLAIMER: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL COMICS AND 20th CENTURY FOX. THE ONLY CHARACTERS THAT ARE MINE, ARE THE TOWN'S PEOPLE IN THE STORY (Jacques, Michel, Mali, Paul, Amanda, etc). NO MONEY EXCHANGED, JUST FOR FUN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **- Dream

Logan yawned and continued down the hall, to the kitchen. He'd overslept by two whole hours. It was now 8 AM and everyone was up and either at school or in the Danger Room training for the latest Sentinnel attacks. He yawned again and flinched at the light in the kitchen. Sun light was hard on tired eyes. Retrieving his shades from the left shirt pocket of his typical yellow and black plaid flannel, he put them on and poured himself a cup of cold coffee.

"Logan, you're up! We thought you were gonna sleep all day. You feelin okay?" The voice belonging to Rogue, slowly crept into his ears.

"Just fine. Why didn't anybody wake me?" He didn't look up. He placed the cup in the small microwave and set the timer. Pushing the 'START' button, he finally turned around to see her staring at him as if he had been asleep for a week. He yawned again and waited for the microwave to beep in finishing. Taking his cup out, he grabbed the day's paper and sat down at the table to read it.

"We tried. But, you kept swattin us away and laughin at somethin. So, we decided to let you sleep and wake up for yourself. Didya meet that good of a girl last night, Shugah?" Rogue came to sit down across from him.

"Hmm."

She looked at her watch before getting up and patting Logan on the shoulder. "I'll catch ya later. Storm and I are goin shoppin." With that, she left the kitchen and headed upstairs to change from her uniform, into her "Shoppin' Clothes" as she called them.

Logan sat there in silence for a long while, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. His mind began to drift back to last night's dream. The strange voice, tingling caresses, innocent laughter. As lips tapped his cheek, he shook himself back to sitting at the kitchen table with his coffee cup in hand.

************************

A few hours later, Logan sat on the cool grey floor of the huge garage, working on his prized possession; his motorcycle. Adjusting this, polishing that, grinning to himself in approval. He liked it to be in top condition and shine. Standing up and straddling the seat, he gripped the handle bars and let his mind wander as he absently turned it on and revved it up. He closed his eyes to listen to the sound and feel a familiar touch as arms wrapped around his waist and a cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"Go fast, monsieur." The voice told, him as a hand slithered down his waist and cupped his semi-aroused manhood. It was a male voice. Rich and sultry in accent and texture. "Take me to the hill. Make love to me, mon couer. Yo body drive me crazy, cher." A gentle squeeze as the speed increased and the voice behind him purred in excitement.

"Logan." Jean's voice brought him out of his musings.

"Somethin I can do for you, Red?" He shut the engine off and stared at her calmly.

Jean looked at him in casual concern. "Are you alright? You missed dinner."

"I'm fine, Jean. Just been tired lately. S'all."

Logan got up off the bike and headed for the garage door. He stopped when Jean again spoke up.

"This isn't like you. Skipping meals, always yawning and dozing off, going to bed early and then getting up late. Logan, if something's the matter, Hank and I will work with you to help you." She had turned her body to face him. Her arms held eachother and her expression gave off a confused fashion. She chewed her lower lip and waited for his reassurance in the matter.

"I'll be fine, Jeanie. Just need some sleep. See ya at breakfast." He smiled and walked back to the house.

**********************

Heading upstairs to his bedroom, he smiled to himself at the sultry laughter in his ears and urgings to walk faster. As he reached his bedroom door, he felt himself being pulled in and pushed down onto the bed. The door closing behind him. Not bothering to turn on the light or remove his clothing. He couldn't stop his eyes from closing, or the gentle brushings of skin to skin.

He lay on his back, in the middle of the huge queen sized bed. His eyes stared at the ceiling of his lightless room, his arms lay spread out to either side of him in the shape of a T. He smiled at the feel of his pants being undone and a hand being slid in to remove his now hard manhood. Gasping as lips and a warm tongue enveloped him in its mouth. A warm and soft hand caressed his tight balls and gave a gentle squeeze. He sighed as the mouth worked him to a frenzy. Logan felt himself give way to release. He grunted and smiled as the mouth moaned in approval.

**"Monsieur, you taste so tres bien. I could taste you forever. Je t'aime, mon amour. I make you feel magnifique, non?" The voice had spoken to him, just out of his view. Logan was unable to see the voice that had been taunting him and making love to him in his dreams. But, he felt real. The hands, the mouth, the skin and hair that teased him. They all felt real.

"Yes, you do. Let me see you, what you look like. I wanna see who I'm pleasin." Logan said softly. He tried to sit up, but a hand on his chest had halted him and lightly pressed him to the bed.

"I show you while we make love, monsieur. I please you so much, you'll see." The voice cooed as it filled it's mouth with saliva and then began to work the saliva all over Logan's extremely erect manhood. The mouth stopped and moved away from him. It was replaced with a tight entrance that drove itself down around Logan. A warm, tight feeling that was sliding up and down all around him. The body of the tight warmth moved and a smooth, childlike face loomed above Logan. Eventhough, the light was off, Logan could faintly see the sparkling soft auburn hair that hung down around the boy's soft face. Thin limbs sprawled themselves around Logan and an equally thin body moved at a slow pace above him. "Do I please your sight, like I do your body, cher?"

"Mmm, very. You gonna drive me wild just by starin at you more than by fuckin you." Logan brought his hand up to cup the man's cheek and guided their lips together. He groaned into the soft, velvet lips as the movement of the tightness around his hard legnth moved even faster.

"You rather look at me than fuck me, monsieur? Pourquoi?" The lips pulled back while the dark eyes looked at Logan quizzically.

"No. I want you. I need to be in your body. I love the way you feel around me." Grabbing the slim hips and rolling his passionate lover over onto the bed, Logan thrust himself deeper into the luscious body. His body trembled as a pulsing in his groin squirt hot, thick liquid out of him and deep into the tight channel of his lover.**

Both spent, and lying beside each other in pleasant numbness, a knock had caused them both to turn and eye the door.

"Logan?" The muffled voice of Jean called to him, and knocked again. "Logan it's 6:30. Breakfast is ready. Are you awake?"

Logan sighed as he looked about his bed to find himself alone, again. His mysterious lover had disappeared and his clothes were intact. "Yea yea, I'm awake. I'll be down in a minute." He yawned again, and pushed himself to a sitting position. He looked about his room for any sign of difference. A spicy scent filled his nose and the room. A peppery scent that seemed to move with him and hugged his chest.

***********************

Sometime in the afternoon, Logan knocked on the door to Xavier's library. He had received a note from Charles to meet him in the Library at 3. He opened the door and walked inside. "Charles?"

"Logan, glad you came." Charles guided his wheelchair into the room from another doorway off to the left. "I wanted to talk to you about your unusual behavior. I don't mean to sound intruding but, I get the feeling that something isn't right. I might be able to help you, if you'd let me?"

Logan sat down in a chair beside a grand window and stared outside. He sighed and then told the Professor about the dreams of him and a French speaking sultry man. Logan described the man in perfect detail. He even went so far into detail as to tell Xavier about the sex, the night prior. Logan couldn't bare to look into the Professor's eyes while he waited for the other gentleman to analyze what he had been told.

Charles thought for a moment and then closed his eyes in concentration. Something on a shelf behind Logan moved. A huge original leather-bound book moved on its own and floated into the hands of Xavier. Moving the pages with his mind, he came to a page with a picture of the mysterious lover that Logan had described.

"That's the kid." Logan leaned forward and stared at the black and white picture of a young looking man in his 20s, wearing a buttoned up black shirt. His hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail and he seemed to be looking to his left and smiling.

"His name was Remy LeBeau."

"Was?"

"Yes. It says he was born in 1905 in New Orleans. He was killed by a jealous lover in 1930. He was one of the most advanced mutants for that day. Logan, did he by any chance tell you his name or anything about him?" Charles looked up into Logan's puzzled gaze.

"Nope. Just came to me in a dream one night."

"How long ago? What was the dream about?"

Logan thought for a minute. "I don't really remember what was goin on. All I know is that I was ridin my bike up the side of the mountain, late at night, and the next thing I know I felt these hands on my chest and heard this kid's voice in my ears. That was about 3 weeks ago. I thought it was just a strange dream from eatin too many chili peppers but, he kept comin back."

"Did you ever wonder why he was there, with you?"

"Nope. It just felt kinda-- natural, I guess. Does it say where the kid's buried?"

"No. Just the last known address. I'll look up his death certificate and we can go from there. Logan, if you'll permit me to help you, perhaps we can ask Remy why he died and why he has been haunting you." Xavier marked the place in the book and then closed it. He and Logan left the room and headed for the Danger Room.

"If he comes to you by your dreams, perhaps Cerebro can grab ahold of his image and produce him in a more 3 dimensional setting to where we can see and talk to him. And, you won't have to be asleep to interact with him." Charles mused as they stopped in front of the Danger Room door.

"Sure hope this works, Charles."

Logan hooked himself up to the massive machine and laid down on the cold floor and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost immediately. And, as if on cue, the hands caressed him and lips tickled his neck and cheeks.

"Mmm. Monsieur, you stay away so long. I miss you, mon amour. Why you not in de bedroom? Monsieur???" The kid lay atop Logan and looked at him in a scared and puzzled look.

Logan grabbed the kid's forearms and held him tightly as a loud whirring sound started up. Logan opened his eyes and was actually shocked to see that his dream was now a 3-D figure. He was touchable, viewable, and a bit confused.

Remy pulled away from Logan, just as Logan stood up and tried to grab hold of him again, and backed up until he was a safe distance from Logan and the strange man in the sitting machine that hovered over and stopped next to Logan. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe?"

"Forgive us. It's not Logan's fault, I'm afraid this was my idea. We simply wish to talk to you awhile. I am Professor Charles Xavier. You already know Logan. And, you must be Remy LeBeau? We don't wish you any harm, we are just trying to help you." Charles extended a hand, palm up, and offered it to the now visibly uncertain figure.

"Pourquoi? Why d'you wish t'help me? Remy displease you, cher? Y'wan' t'hurt Remy 'gain, mon cher?" Remy stared at Logan, wide-eyed. He'd noticed that Logan hadn't given him an upward glance since Remy pulled away from him.

"No. I told you before, I would never hurt you." Logan finally looked up in shock and stared into red on black demon eyes. "Why would I hurt you?"

"Remy? Why did you pick Logan's dreams? Did he know you in your lifetime?" Charles spoke up and startled the thin form of a dream turned flesh.

"Oui. We met in Paris." Remy calmly nodded at Xavier and then refocused his sight on Logan. "Y' don' remember, cher? 1927, we met in de Cafe Romantique. I picked yo' pocket, m'sieur. You tell me you gon' protect Remy but, you just stood dere an' watched Remy die." Remy hung his head in shame and sadness.

"Do you mind if we talk about that day, Remy? Do you remember what went on?" Charles leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands infront of him.

"Oui. Monsieur had been drinking. He was out all night. When he got home, he 'it Remy fo' no reason and den laughed as Remy fell down de stairs. Call Remy a whore! Monsieur Xavier, I try to be good fo' Logan but, 'e tell me Remy no good." Remy felt himself start to well up with tears and cast his gaze from Xavier to the floor. He'd hoped Logan hadn't caught him crying.

"Are you sure it was me, kid? I don't remember bein anywhere in 1930." Logan stepped forward and offered the kid a pat on the back in sympathy.

"Oui. Remy positive. Six claws, cigars, expensive wine." He unbuttoned his black silk shirt and spread the material away from his smooth chest to reveal 3 holes in a straight horizontal line in the middle of his ribcage. "Y' laugh at Remy when he ask you why. Do you still laugh now, mon brave?"

Both Xavier and Logan gasped in shock. Logan did so much as to walk up to the young man and run his fingers lightly over the wounds. Logan was in absolute confusion as he realised he did remember bits and pieces but, he thought they were merely his mind playing tricks on him.

"Yes. What about now, Remy? Why do you haunt Logan's dreams now?" Charles moved his chair forward to examine the wounds on the boy's chest.

"Remy t'ink dis time, Logan forgive him, non? Remy can be good, M'sieur. You see. Monsieur's dreams, dey nice. Like Logan used t'be. We go fo' walks an' rides on 'is moto'cycle. Sometime's, 'e let me sit beside 'im, no behind him. He diff'rent, non?" Remy lifted his head up and smiled as he remembered all of the dream sequences.

"Is that why you never let me see ya?" Logan huffed.

"Oui." Remy nodded, letting his smile fade as he realised Logan wasn't smiling. "Desole, mon brave. You upset wit' Remy again. I go. T'ought you forgiven Remy. Je t'aime, mon amour, je t'aime." Remy sighed and faded away, leaving the two men to stare into the empty space he had been in.

"Wait, Remy! Come back! Please, let me...." Logan reached out into the empty space, hoping to find some contact with the spirit.

Charles moved his chair back over to the small machine that Logan was hooked up to. "I'm sorry Logan. I was hoping we could have talked with him a little longer. However, we did make some progress. While Remy was tangible, Cerebro managed to obtain more than his last known address." Charles had printed something out and handed the paper to Logan. "I leave that for you to decide. Try to get him to talk again. There must be another reason as to why he is here, now. I sensed he was very lonely and hurt by what had happened. He could be a danger to you if this goes unresolved."

Logan took the paper and stared at the words that seemed to jumble together on the page. "Charles, I know we can't undo the past, but, is there some way we could--?" Logan stopped in mid-sentenced. He was too embarrassed to finish his thought, yet Charles had heard Logan's mind tell him that he wanted Remy to be real, again. Logan began taking off the attachments and placed them beside the machine.

"It would take more of Cerebro's power to keep him here in a prolonged state than to have him appear in your dreams. Perhaps, we could work with the Danger Room's settings and Cerebro, and be able to produce a replica here. He said you killed him but, why? He seems to be the only person who remembers that day. Logan, I wonder what he meant by you forgiving him. Does anything come back to you?" Charles pondered as both men walked slowly to the door.

"Not a clue. I do some pretty wild stuff when I'm drunk but, I wouldn't kill a kid like that. I'm gonna go try to get him to talk to me. Will you tell Jean I'll be down later for dinner?" Logan stopped in the hallway and waited as the Professor nodded in silent agreement before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

***********************

Logan stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. Locking it, he turned on the light and jumped at his reflection in the mirror. He removed his clothing and started the water for a hot shower. He stared at the running water rushing out of the faucet, and decided he should take a bath instead. He plugged the drain and let the water fill up. He dumped a small packet of Lavender that Jean had given him, into the tub.

He lit some candles and turned off the bright flourescant lights and lowered himself into the cloudy water. He leaned back and rest his head on the wall as he closed his eyes and mentally called to Remy. "Remy, we're alone now. Please, come talk to me. Come on kid, where are ya?"

Moments passed in silence. Logan was about to give up and open his eyes when he heard the voice speak to him from far away. He moaned quietly and concentrated harder to find the kid.

**"Y'gonna tell Remy t' leave you alone, m'sieur? Remy be good, promise, cher." Remy sat at a picnic table, in the middle of a huge valley full of at least 3 dozen different kinds of flowers. He sat facing away from the table, and Logan, who had appeared on the other side. He looked out into the valley, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"No. That aint why I wanted to talk to you."

"Why den, Logan? When we touch in dat room, you wanted Remy to go away, non? You no bring y'self to tell me to leave. Monsieur Xavier, he understand Remy, I t'ink. You no believe you kill Remy?" Tired frustration filled Remy's voice. He hadn't moved to look at Logan, nor had he flinched or moved away when Logan came to stand infront of him.

"I just want to talk, kid." Logan rubbed Remy's thin shoulders and then lifted him up to sit on the edge of the table. "Can we do that, please?"

"Oui."

"I don't remember much about back then, but I know I can't stand to see you cry." Logan lifted the kid's thin, trembling chin up and wiped his tears away. "That's better."

"Why you kill me, cher? I was good to you, non? Remy make it better, mon amour. Take away all your anger." Remy reached up and started to unbutton Logan's pants. Hands grabbed his wrists and he cried out in fear of being hurt.

"No. Not yet. You aint no sex slave, Remy. I'm tryin to tell you that. What happened in 1930, I can't take back. I don't know what happened. I mean-- I don't remember. But, I know, I still love you. And, as strange as this is, this feels right. You beside me." Logan stared into Remy's confused eyes. The kid didn't understand that Logan didn't remember killing him.

Remy placed a hand on Logan's temple and told him to close his eyes. "I show you ev't'in, mon brave." Remy closed his eyes and concentrated. He moved both of them back to 1930. They stood in the middle of a huge livingroom, decorated in fine art and fancy artifacts.

Logan started to speak but was stopped by Remy's hand and then a point in the direction of the main staircase that curved it's black marble stairs up the far wall of the equally grand entranceway.

Remy was alive, and making his way downstairs in a hurry. He was dressed in a white shirt and light brown khaki pants. He looked out the window and smiled as he saw Logan approaching the front door. Throwing open the door, he took the visibly drunken man in his arms and hugged him. "You home, cher! I fix breakfast for you. Yo' favourite, m'sieur. I take y'coat, an' we eat, non?"

Logan, in an angry pout swatted the Cajun across his face and causing him to be knocked into the wall, next to the front door, as he fell. "Don't just sit there, close the damn door! Lettin the cold in." Logan growled and walked passed Remy to the stairs.

"Oui." Remy shook his head, trying to shake off his dizziness and scrambled for the door. He shut and locked it before turning back to watch Logan sway and try to climb the stairs.

Logan made it half way up the staircase by himself. Remy had to help him the rest of the way. "I don't need yer help, Cajun." Logan swatted Remy again with the back of his hand and nearly fell backwards if Remy hadn't have caught him.

"Oui. I help you t'bed. You feel better in de morn, non? I rub y'back and help you relax?" Remy locked his arm around Logan's waist and pushed him forward towards the bedroom.

"I told you, kid, I don't need yer help!" Logan grabbed Remy's shirt and pulled him to the other side of the staircase, and up against the wall. "Yer just helpin me so I'll fuck ya. Is that it? Huh?!" Remy flinched away and closed his eyes as the hot breath came within inches of his ear. Logan had been drinking Vodka neat. He was violent and unpredictable when he drank Vodka. Logan began fumbling at his belt buckle. Undoing his pants and pulling himself hard, he stopped briefly to remove Remy's pants, before turning and pushing Remy to the floor.

"Non, please, m'sieur. I only wan' t'help. Please don' do dis." Remy begged and fought to keep his shirt from being ripped apart by Logan's 3 claws that had freed themselves from his free hand.

Logan growled again and thrust himself deep into Remy's tight opening. Pounding harder and harder, not caring that the man underneath him was now shaking and crying while begging him to stop. "You like this, you little slut? Huh?!"

Remy turned his head and answered in a panicked whisper. "Oui, monsieur."

"Is this all you want from me? Just a good fuck and a bed to sleep in?" Logan thrust harder and sneered, evily. He saw the tears that slid down Remy's pale cheeks as he asnwered the same 'Oui, monsieur.'

Remy lay sprawled on the cold floor as Logan pounded fiercely into him. "Sil vous plait, Logan. Please stop, mon amour. I love you. Do not do dis." Remy gasped outloud as Logan pushed himself even deeper into the boy's trembling body, and came hard.

Logan grunted and waited till he finished before removing himself and tucking his bloody manhood back into his pants and zipping up. He was oblivious to what he had just done. Instead he stood up and stepped over the scared young man. "Get off the floor, Cajun. Clean yerself up." Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued to stumble his way towards their bedroom.

Remy lay there a minute before rolling onto his side and looking down at his own semi-hard manhood. He wiped the tears away and cringed as the sudden movement caused his bum to burn in pain. He stood up and pulled his pants back into place. Wiping the small pool of blood up with his shirt, he looked down the hallway to his left, the same hallway Logan had disappeared to.

He was coming back.

Logan tripped out of the bedroom door and back down the hall to meet Remy at the top of the stairs. He stopped when he realised Remy was standing in his way. "Move."

"Je t'aime, Logan?" Remy forced a faint smile. "How bout we stay home, non? You sleep and den we go out later, on Remy?"

Logan grabbed him again and pushed him against the same wall as before. "I told you, I don't need your help, slut!" With that, Logan released a fist of 3 claws into Remy's chest. He removed them as Remy began to tumble down the staircase in complete shock. When Remy landed at the bottom, lying on his back and keeping his eyes on the now hysterical Canadian, Logan snorted as he was asked for help. Instead, Logan made his way back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut, leaving a stunned Cajun to convulse and finally give his last breath.

Logan opened his eyes and looked around to find himself back at the pinic table, with arms wrapped around his shoulders. He was speechless. He was in shock and disgusted with himself for being so cruel to such a loving and trusting soul.

"Pourquoi, Logan? You forgive Remy now, m'sieur?"**

 

To Be Continued...........


	2. Chapter 2

**Logan stood there a moment, still in complete shock at what he had just witnessed. Finally, he spoke. "Didn't you try to fight back? If you're a mutant, why didn't ya use yer powers? Oh baby, don't cry." Pushing the sobbing Cajun back so he could look at him and dry his eyes, he waited for Remy to form an answer somewhat coherent.

"Remy try t' fight back but, you were too strong. Not de only time you was drunk, cher." Remy lowered his gaze to the bench of the picnic table. "Remy tell you, he don' use his powers on Logan, an' Logan don' use 'is claws on Remy. Y' forgive Remy, cher? Don' mean t' be a whore, mon amour. I try better, oui??"

Logan smiled and cupped one of Remy's soggy cheeks, "Nothin to forgive, kid. Do you forgive me?"

Remy looked up in excitement. He tossed his arms around Logan's neck again and cooed. "Oui, mon cher! Remy never be mad at you, mon amour. After you sobred up, you bury Remy, an' give him a nice talkin' to. You fo'get 'im but, Remy a good patient boy. He wait only for you, cher."

Logan smiled and went back to looking around the huge valley. He looked up at the sky and saw that it was neither night or day. He looked back at Remy who was awaiting to hear Logan profess his love for him too. "Remy, where... where did I....bury you?"

Without hesitation, Remy pointed to the tall oak tree that stood to his left. He watched in reserve as Logan walked over to the tree and examined it.

"Where, Remy?"

"Under. You put Remy in a box an' you bury him under de tree." Remy pushed himself off of the table and walked over to where Logan stood. He pointed to a small carving that read:

 

'R.I.P.  
Remy LeBeau.  
1905-1930.  
Je t'aime, aussi.'

Logan looked at the young man again. He realised that Remy was now wearing the blood-stained shirt and pants he'd been killed in. "Where is this in my world, Remy? Where is this tree in my world?" He'd turned and grabbed the young man's shoulders and turned him to face Logan.

"Port Allen."

"Port Allen?"

Remy nodded, silently.

"Who's dreamin this place? Where did this come from?"

"You are, m'sieur."

"The table too?"

"Oui. You brought it a year after you bury Remy. You sit and talk to de tree fo' hours, cher. Sometimes you drunk, an' sometimes you bring a petite fille wit' you. Logan forget 'bout me after couple o' years. You go away, leave me all lonely. Remy sit at de table an wait but, Logan don' come. So, Remy foun' yo' dreams. I jus' wan' t' spen' time wit' you, cher. Remy lonely." Tears welled up in the young man's eyes again and he wiped them away with his sleeve.

Logan bit his bottom lip and then walked back to the wooden table. He stopped at the end and told Remy to come to him. When the kid did as he was told, Logan grabbed his slim hips and lifted the kid up onto the edge of the table, as he had done before. Putting a finger to the velvet lips as they started to speak, Logan kissed him, gently and undid the old hookings of Remy's khakis. Logan whispered for the kid to lean back and close his eyes.

Remy looked at him, quizzically before complying. He scoot himself back on the table and leaned back on his palms. Closing his eyes, he felt Logan free his manhood and then take him into his mouth. Remy gasped and his eyes shot open to watch Logan pleasuring him. Remy cooed and 'mmmmm-ed' as Logan seemed to go on for never-ending minutes. He balanced on his left hand and reached up to play with Logan's black hair and entangle his fingers in it as he couldn't hold himself back from releasing. He lay himself down on the long table and smiled when Logan brought himself to look into his red on black eyes. "Pourquoi, Logan?"

"Let's just say, it was overdue." Logan kissed the velvet mouth again and let the kid taste himself on Logan's lips and tongue. "I don't wanna scare ya, kid, but this body is makin me so hard. How about we go back to my room, and we can fall in love all over again?"

"You wan' Remy t'make love t'you? I make you feel better, cher. We go." Remy sat up and jumped as Logan grabbed his arms and stopped him.

"No. For 3 weeks, you've been doin all the work. It's my turn now."

"Of course."

Remy entwined his fingers in Logan's and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were in Logan's bedroom. Remy sat on the end of the bed, naked and ready. Logan had stood in front of him but, still had his clothes on. Remy liked undressing Logan. He could tease and tickle him that way. He reached up and undid Logan's shirt, and then moved to his pants. He came face to face with Logan's erection. Remy looked up into Logan's eyes and then again, filled his mouth with saliva before coating the erection with wetness. He sucked a bit but stopped when hands lightly gripped his shoulders.

Logan gently pushed Remy back to lie down on the bed, and spread his legs. He bent over the kid and gently pushed himself into the tight channel. He kissed the pain away, that he'd read in Remy's expression. His movements had been slow and steady. He remembered all to well the sight at the top of the stairs and Remy pleading with him to stop. It was the last thing he'd wanted Remy to experience again. Trailing kisses over Remy's slender jawline and down his neck, Logan let his speed increase. He smiled as he listened to Remy pant in pleasure. Letting a hand move to stroke Remy's hardness, Logan gasped and increased his pace bit by bit before nearly coming.

"M'sieur...... ahh...... M'sieur.... will you please come? Ahh... I need t' feel you, mon amour. Sil vous plait. Ahh.... Remy can' hol' out any longer, Logan." Remy squeezed his eyes closed and enclosed his hand around Logan's to help him stroke Remy's erection. He gasped at the touch and moaned into Logan's hungry lips. They felt each other release and sighed at the completion. "Je taime, Logan?"

"Je t'aime, Remy." Logan removed himself and lay beside Remy on the end of the bed.

Remy rolled over to face the older man and snuggle into the brawny chest. He smiled.**

 

**************************

Logan opened his eyes to find himself still sitting the bathtub, which now had cold water. He wondered how long he had been there, and why Jean wasn't knocking at the door. Logan let the water out and then stood up and took a cold shower. He was still hard and the cold water didn't help. He knelt down and stroked himself. Thick, hot liquid mixed with cold shower water as it was washed down the drain. Logan grunted as the last of it was being dissolved by the water. He cleaned himself up and turned off the water.

He grabbed a fluffy white towel that hung on a wrack beside the door, and dried himself off. All that was going through his mind was the thought of him raping Remy on the stairs. And then, him making love to Remy on his bed. He had treated the kid so horribly, and yet the kid had acted like it was nothing. It didn't make sense. Finally, he remembered the tree and where the kid said he was buried.

Wrapping the thick white towel around his waist, he opened the door and rushed to his dresser to get dressed. He grabbed a sport bag and started throwing extra clothes into the bag. Dashing back into the bathroom to hang up the damp towel, he turned on the light and blew out the greatly diminished candles he had lit before his bath. Logan grabbed his needed toiletries and packed them too. As he ran out the door, he glanced at the clock beside his bed, 10:15 PM. He'd been asleep for over 3 hours. He threw open the door and ran down the hall with his bag in hand.

Everyone was either asleep or in their rooms doing their things. He decided to avoid them all and headed for Xavier's quarters. He knocked on the door and waited to hear Charles' acknowledgement.

"Yes, Logan?"

"I talked to him. Found out where he was buried. He showed me. Port Allen. I gotta go. I wanna bring him here and put him under the tree. He showed me everything." Logan rushed in and shut the door behind him. He sat down beside the bed on a plush leather chair.

"So it was you he was with....?"

"Yea. I kinda did a bit more than he told us in the Danger Room." Logan hung his head in shame.

Charles sat up and leaned back against his tall headboard. "Will he come back to your dreams?"

"I dunno. But, if I move him here, he might not be so lonely. I have ta put things right with him before he can move on."

"I had a feeling you were going to go find him. Let me get dressed and I'll go with you. I might be of some help in locating where he's buried." Charles pulled back the covers and mentally brought himself fresh clothing.

Logan nodded and left the room. He ran to the hangar to ready the Jet and wait for Charles.

Five minutes passed before the elevator doors opened and Charles emerged. Hurriedly, he hovered his chair up the walk and set it down in an empty space.

The loading hatch closed and Logan set the controls and prepared for take-off. Logan wasted no time flying the shortest route to Port Allen and finding a place to land in the swampy marsh. The flight took most of 5 hours and neither man chatted much. When they did speak, they filled each other in on what they had learned about Remy and his past.

Logan finally landed the plane shortly after 2:30AM and cloaked it with a flat clearing in the swamp. Branches and moss covered it, as well as the huge trees that seemed to come together above them. Logan admired his cloaking skills and turned to lead Charles out of the brush.

"I've made reservations at the hotel in town. They're expecting us." Charles mentioned as they neared the town limits. "We can start tomorrow morning."

************************

At the hotel, Logan stopped at the room door and stared at the number, 25. Remy was that age. He'd hoped to take a nap and spend it with the kid. He couldn't wait to tell him about his plans to bring him back to Westchester and bury him under the huge maple tree that he could see from his bedroom window. Logan turned the key and opened the door. Feeling for the lightswitch, he clicked it on to find the room was decorated in the late 1920s style. Quaint Tiffani lamps sat on either side of the grand 4 poster bed that sat just off to the right, they were dim but enough to see by. An old wicker ceiling fan hung directly above the bed and spun lazily. The window was diagonal from the door, and stood in between the door and the bed. He walked in to the room and shut the door behind him. Placing his bag in the chair that sat to the left of the door, he continued to look around the room and wander into the small bathroom. It wasn't as big as his was at the Mansion but, it had a sink, toilet, and a small shower stall. Suit him just fine.

Logan yawned and flicked the lightswitch off before laying down on the bed. Not bothering to change his clothing or slide under the covers. Instead, he played with the lace ruffles and fancy patterns while he succumbed to unconsciousness.

"Remy? Remy!"

Silence.

"Remy, Charles and I are in Port Allen. Come talk to me, kid. Remy? Where are ya?"

Again, silence.

Logan stared at the blackness of his mind. Remy's name being bounced off the darkness. He growled at the silence. Still, nothing came. Not even the peppery scent of his Cajun lover as he rolled over and concentrated harder. Hours passed and Logan tossed and turned. Still no Remy.

Knock knock.

Logan grunted and jumped at the sudden sound.

Knock knock.

He got up off the bed and forced himself to walk to the door. He opened it, and stared at Charles before remembering where he was. "I'll be down in a minute. Just need to get cleaned up." He closed the door and hurried to change his clothes and brush his teeth and hair.

With his bag in hand he ran down the stairs he met Xavier in the lobby who was holding two cups of hot coffee. Charles had asked the clerk at the desk to call a taxi before asking where they might find an old cemetery with an oak tree and a picnic table next to it.

The clerk thought for a minute, then laughed. He told them the only cemetery with a tree and picnic table in it was located in the historical part of town, out by the old LeBeau manner. "Only one person buried dere, mes amis. His ghost haunt de house too. You crazy if you go dere, monsieur."

"Thank you." Charles paid for the rooms and followed Logan out of the door.

The taxi pulled up soon after they were outside and had finished their coffee. They climbed in and told the driver to head for the old LeBeau manner. The driver nodded and proceeded to drive the two strangers to their destination.

It was nearly to the edge of town when the taxi turned down a long drive way and stopped at a rickety old gate. Logan got out and asked the driver to wait there while he and his friend opened the gate and went inside. The driver nodded and turned off the engine but kept the meter running.

The two men walked up the barely recognizable path to the tall, dark two-storey house that looked ashambles. The front yard had been overgrown with tall grass and weeds. A rotted wooden rocking chair sat off the far left of the long, white porch. To the right, an equally old and rotted double porch swing sat. The paint was peeling and boards creaked and groaned with each step Logan took. The windows of the front of the house were dirty and some were missing pieces of them.

Logan took the handles of the double doors and pressed down on the rusted buttons. He pushed, but it wouldn't give. He growled.

"Let me try." Charles concentrated on the door and shortly after, the doors opened up to a dark and dusty inside.

Charles followed Logan's lead into the house. They looked around the entrance way. The beautiful black marble floor that had once shined so brightly, now lay under a few inches of dust. No furniture or paintings or any of the art Logan saw in his dream. It was empty.

Suddenly, Logan spotted a cleared spot at the bottom of the stairs. He took a closer look to find a big red stain in the middle of the floor. No dust had fallen there. It was as if the dust had gathered around it like a wreath of flowers. He knelt down and took a closer look. It was a stain of blood. Remy's blood. Something in his mind snapped back to his dream that Remy had shown him. Shaking off the harsh memory of his poor ill-fated lover, he turned his attention to the top of the stairs and made a dash for the spot. Taking two steps at a time, Logan bound up the steps in search of the very spot that haunted him.

"What is it, Logan? What do you see?" Charles called from the bottom of the stairs. He sat his chair down beside the stain and waited.

Logan replayed the events he was shown and described them to Xavier as he acted them out, skipping the more intimate details. ".... and then he fell down the stairs. He begged and pleaded for me to help him, but I wouldn't listen. The bedroom's back here." Logan pointed down the dark hallway just kitty-corner to the tall staircase. Turning away from the stairs, he disappeared down the hall and into the first room on the left; their bedroom.

It was a huge room with slashed walls and a dusty, broken, oval vanity mirror that stood in the far right corner of the room. The metal frame belonging to a massive king sized bed sat against the nearest wall, beside the door. The room was empty otherwise. Logan thought it best not to enter the room. Instead, he checked the other rooms before returning downstairs and leading Charles to the back door.

The back door, itself, had been pulled half off it's hinges so it rested on the bottom hinge. Logan opened the door and pushed open the metal frame of the screen door. The screens had seen his obvious fury after realising his lover was dead by his drunken rage. Looking out, he saw the huge tree from his dream. Patches of tall weeds had grown up around it. The rotted and warped table was there too.

Both men made their way to the tree. Logan looked for the carvings and hunched down to get a better look. Moving some weeds, he saw the carvings on a cleared space at the bottom of the tree.

"Now that we know where it is, we will come back with the Blackbird and equipment. Logan, are you sure you want to do this?" Xavier looked from the tree to the man who was still engrossed in the tree as if he were remembering another piece of the dream.

"Yea. I'm sure. I owe the kid that much."

 

To Be Continued...............


	3. Chapter 3

It had been just over a week since Logan and Charles had dug up Remy's makeshift casket and transplanted it to the maple tree in Xavier's backyard. And just over a week of Logan's dreams being empty and dark. He tried countless times to bring the auburn haired man to his dreams but, it seemed useless.

Logan sat in front of the marble headstone with carved and painted black letters, that stood to Logan's mid-thigh, day after day, talking to it about whatever he thought about. He asked questions and planted flowers; daisies. He knew the kid always liked daisies. Again, he asked the headstone how he knew that. No answer.

Into the second week, Logan's dreams had been of replayed memories of he and Remy together. More harsh ones than anything. It hurt him to watch them play as movies, yet he refused to wake up or shake them off.

**In one dream, there was a party in the house. At least thirty or more people were there, wandering through the downstairs of the house, laughing and drinking champagne. Music played on an old phonograph that Remy had bought some years prior. Logan had a great time, mingling with guests and drinking more than his share of alcohol. He had been flirting and nipping at several young ladies while Remy watched, heartbroken.

Remy had a few glasses of champagne and talked with a few older ladies in the grand dining area, yet keeping an eye on Logan on the sofa in the livingroom, just across the entranceway. Every now and then, he'd excuse himself from the current conversation and make his way to the huge kitchen, for a moment of peace.

As the guests left at the end of the night, Logan was nearly passed out on the plush sofa, and Remy was left to clean up and turn the lights off. Cleaning up in the livingroom, Remy stood over Logan and shook his head. Logan was a mess. Shirt untucked and buttoned wrong, pants buttoned but unzipped. Remy reached down and carefully zipped Logan's pants up. He was startled when Logan's eyes shot open and big, strong hands grabbed Remy's slender wrists.

Remy jumped back and tried to free himself but, Logan moved with him and held him even tighter. Remy did his best to try and calm the angered Canadian. Agreeing to angry spats that clouded Logan's mind, from the champagne.

"I saw you with that bitch! Playin all cutesie with her." Shifting both of Remy's wrists to one hand, Logan backhanded Remy with the other across the face. His hold grew tighter. "Did you take her into the kitchen and fuck her too? Huh? You little slut. You belong to me! You only fuck me, got it? Bitch!" Logan smacked him again and released him to send Remy backpeddling into a Throne-shaped chair.

A stunned Cajun answered and then wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Oui, m'sieur. Remy only love you, Logan. Was only talkin' t' de dames. Y' talkin t' de petite filles....." He was silenced by another backhand to the opposite cheek.

Logan growled. He was furious with Remy for talking back to him. He reached for Remy's left arm but, was unaware Remy had picked up a glass, charged it and threw it at him in confusion. Logan ducked and the glass was sent to the other side of the room where it hit the wall and shattered as it exploded.

Remy stared into Logan's furious expression, in horror. "Non, Logan. Remy no mean it. Please, Logan. Remy be good. Y' fo'give him?" Remy begged as he was jerked out of the chair and on to the floor. He lie on his back. Logan had sat on his hips and made a fist with his right hand. Remy panicked as three shiny metal claws emerged from his fist. His arms had been pinned to his sides by Logan's strong legs. He was powerless.

Logan retract two claws and let the first one slide under the parting of Remy's shirt and slice through the sewing that held the buttons on. Releasing the other two, Logan spread Remy's white shirt open and lightly ran the tips of the claws over Remy's tan, heaving chest. "Don't ever use your powers on me again, tramp. Cause I'll kill you and won't think twice. Capice?"

"Oui. Crystal." Remy nodded and waited until Logan slid his claws back into his hands before breathing easy. For a moment, he closed his eyes, and for a moment he was safe.

Logan reached down and grabbed a fist full of Remy's hair that had been neatly pulled back into a ponytail, and stood the both of them up. As he let go, strands of long auburn hair wrapped around his fingers and came out of Remy's head. "Clean this mess up. And then come to bed." Logan mumbled as he made his way to the stairs and up to bed.

When Remy had finished cleaning, he made his way, tiredly, up the stairs and into the bedroom. Logan was already undressed and lying on the side furthest from the door. He was on his back and dozing when the door opened and Remy stepped in. Remy sighed and looked around the room. Clothes everywhere. Drawers were open- mainly his dresser drawers- and pictures and knick-knacks were in disarray. He removed his clothing and sunk into the down mattress, pulling the thick, black comforter up around him. He reached up and turned off the small lamp that sat on his nightstand. Remy rolled on his side, away from Logan as a tear escaped. He whimpered softly when Logan rolled on to his side and scooted closer to him.

Putting his kisses on Remy's shoulder, he whispered. "I'm sorry Remy. You drive me so crazy sometimes. It's that charm power, baby. You know I hate seeing you upset, hm?"

"Oui, cher." Remy was tired and humiliated.

"You want me to suck ya till you come? Hm?" Logan reached his hand down under the dark, thick comforter and massaged Remy's semi-hard erection. Trailing few kisses down Remy's thin shoulder and arm, he looked over Remy's shoulder, waiting for his answer.

"No cher, please. Remy jus' tired. We sleep now, non? I do you in de morn, ok?" Remy closed his eyes and hoped the rage wouldn't take over Logan again.

"You okay, kid?"

"Oui. Jus' tired."

Logan shrugged and pulled the kid back against him, keeping his hand on Remy's erection as they both slept.**

*************************

Logan woke up in a cold sweat. He panted deeply, trying to breathe. He sat up in his bed and put a hand over his eyes as he fought back the tears. He had kicked the blanket off long ago but, entwined himself in the now soaked white sheet. The kid must have been so scared of him. Remy wanted so bad to please Logan but, Logan's rage and jealousy ran rampant when he drank.

He lay down again and stared at the ceiling for a long moment before closing his eyes. Another dream hit him.

**Logan sat at the end of a long black oak table, alone. His empty plate had been pushed off to the side. A more than half empty bottle of Bourbon and an empty shot glass sat in front of him. He slouched back in his chair and sneered at the grandfather clock that rang obscenely loud, behind him. Remy wasn't home. The kid promised he'd be back in less than an hour, that was well over 2 hours ago.

The door opened and closed, quietly. Remy removed his long heavy coat and glanced around the corner to see Logan sitting at the table. He knew the bottle had been nearly full when he left. He swallowed hard and made his way to sit in the chair next to Logan. Remy started to apologise but was cut off by Logan's gruff growl.

"Where the hell you been, boy? I've been lookin all over for you. Answer me!"

"Sorry, Logan. I had t' go t' de bank. Line was long."

"I checked the bank. Didn't see ya. Don't lie to me Remy. I took you in."

"No lyin, cher. De rain come, Remy got stranded in de cafe. Honest, mon amour. Remy try t' come home." Remy held his breath in when he saw Logan reach for the bottle and shot glass. "Sil vous plait, mon ami, do not drink. Remy home now. He take care of you. Desole--?"

Logan threw his head back as he drank and then poured another glass. He set the glass down in front of Remy and told him to drink. When Remy refused, Logan stood up and knocked his chair backwards. He grabbed the hair at the back of Remy's head and growled. He leaned in closer to Remy and sniffed. "Who you been fuckin, boy? It's all over you. You'd better tell me, now!" Logan hissed.

"No one, m'sieur. Remy control hisself."

Thunder boomed loudly outside and the clouds rolled darker and darker. The giant chandelier above them shook and the lights danced. Logan stared deeply into Remy's eyes, he could see the young man was telling the truth. But, he didn't care.

Logan snorted. He let go of the kid's damp hair that hung loosely down his back and replaced it on the kid's left arm. He pulled Remy to his feet and dragged him back to the entranceway.

Remy had been half-dragged, half-walking and tried to tell Logan that he loved only him. "Cher, Remy hard but, he only hard for you. You de only one who wan' Remy. Please cher! I wan' t' stay wit' you."

Logan opened the front door and tossed the Cajun out onto the porch, grunting in amusement as Remy fell to his knees. He stood there in the doorway, watching Remy shiver and plead with him. The kid was dressed in black khaki pants and matching shirt. Thunder boomed again, and the kid jumped in fear. The November rain was cold and came down in sheets on the roof of the porch. Logan sighed and waved the kid back in.

Remy took cautious steps back through the doorway and past Logan. He was shivering violently, and holding himself while trying not to show his convulsions.

Logan shut the door behind him and stood behind Remy, rubbing his hands on the kid's arms to warm him up. He motioned for Remy to sit down on the stairs while he went to make some hot coffee and get a blanket. He smiled when Remy did as he asked. He kissed Remy's forehead and then excused himself to the kitchen.

When he came back, Remy had been holding himself and bent over, resting on his lap. Logan wrapped the thick wool blanket around him and handed the kid the cup of coffee. He sat down beside him and stared at the front door. Silence that seemed like an eternity, passed between them. Finally Logan spoke, calmly. "For three years now, I guess I musta put you through Hell. I gave you every chance I had to let you leave. You stayed. You bought this house, let me move in, now I act like I own it. I see the bruises I leave on ya. And sometimes, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch you sleep. Do I torture your dreams too?"

"Non cher." Remy stared at his black coffee, and held it tightly in his hands. His fingers were numb with cold and stung as they wrapped themselves around the burning white coffee mug.

"You mean the world to me, Remy. I tend to forget that yer human too. I don't mean to treat ya like my own personal fuck post but, the truth is, I'm tryin to show you how I feel about you. And it aint the charms doin it. I love the way you feel, in my arms, in my body and in my soul. In my dyin breath, Remy, I'll love you forever." Logan put a gentle hand on Remy's blanketed back and rubbed it. "Come on, let's get you outta those wet clothes."

"Okay."

Logan helped Remy to his feet and turned him around to head upstairs.

"Logan...?"

"Hm?"

"May I make love to you?" Remy asked in a hushed voice as they stood at the top of the stairs.

Logan inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Staring calmly at the bundled kid, he took in his scent. "Sure."

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, on Remy's side. He pulled his white muscle shirt over his head and then stood up to remove his pants. He found himself staring at the Cajun as Remy's hands snaked over his and took over for him. Logan stood there as Remy unbuttoned and unzipped the material and let it fall to his ankles. He cleared his throat when Remy pushed down his white boxers and took his hardness in his hands.

Remy shrugged off the blanket and then knelt down. Filling his mouth with Logan's length, he rolled his tongue over and around and smiled as he heard Logan gasp in enjoyment. As he continued sucking, he moved a hand to his own shirt and started to unbutton it. As he reached the last button, Remy casually pulled the shirt from his pants and then shrugged the damp shirt off, then placed his hands on Logan's hips. He sucked harder and Logan gasped and growled in amusement. He jumped slightly when he felt Logan's hands caressing his shoulders and hair. He sucked harder and harder and swallowed Logan's hot and sticky orgasm. The tip of his nose rest on Logan's groin, and the long length was doing it's best to choke him. But, he managed to swallow it completely.

Logan watched him. He loved watching the kid work. He sighed in disappointment when the kid stood up again. Keeping his hands on Remy's shoulders, he kissed the young man. He could taste himself on the kid and he loved it.

"Lay down, cher. Remy not done." Remy whispered as their eyes met.

Logan watched Remy undo his belt and then his pants. His eyes stared up and the thin frame. He'd propped himself up to watch the show but, found himself examining each bruise and scrape the kid had on his chest and arms. They were from him. All from him. It became unbearable.

Remy pushed his pants and briefs down and kicked them off to the side. He bent down and removed Logan's pants, also. When he stood up again, he paused. His arousal was demanding attention. Remy filled his mouth with saliva and slid his first two fingers into his mouth, sopping them in moisture. He removed them and then coated his own erection in the wetness. Remy crawled up onto the bed and looked down at Logan with a smile. "Relax, cher. Remy make you feel better." Remy whispered and then pushed himself into Logan's tight body. The saliva made his length slick enough to push all the way in without too much trouble. He kissed Logan again as he pulled out and pushed back in. He repeated the rhythm, each time growing faster and deeper. When he wanted to, the kid could push off his orgasm for an hour. He liked teasing Logan and driving him crazy with his frictioned thrusts.

Logan was panting and growling. He gripped Remy's hips and pulled the kid into a faster pace. "You gonna come, kid? Or are you just teasin?"

"Oui mon amour. I come so good for you, non?" Remy said in a tired voice. It had been a half an hour since they started, and Remy had to admit he couldn't contain himself. Remy took fistfuls of comforter in his hands, that had been planted on either side of Logan, and closed his eyes tightly. Remy's breath caught as he pushed deep into Logan and succumbed to pleasant tremors as he climaxed. He shook and panted as he removed himself. He opened his eyes and looked for any sign, in Logan's relaxed expression, that he pleased him. "Remy good, non? Logan feel better, now?" Remy lay on his side and snuggled close to Logan.

"Mm. Yea kid. Yer damn good. Where'd you learn that spit trick?" Logan held Remy close and closed his eyes to rest.

Remy grew silent and still. His cheeks blushed red but, his face flushed pale. "A long time ago, cher. It was de only t'ing Remy have t' use." He whispered and looked up to see Logan's expression harden. "You angry wit' me, Logan? I not do it 'gain cher. Promise."

"S'ok kid." Logan removed his arm and sat up to get dressed. "Get under the blanket. Ya don't need ta catch cold. I'll go make ya some soup."

"Oui."

As Logan finished getting dressed in the same clothes, Remy moved and climbed under the thick comforter. Zipping up, he turned around and tucked Remy in, pulling the thick downe blanket up to the young man's pale chin. They kissed and Logan hurried out of the room, leaving Remy alone to stare out the window at the rain. The light beside him seemed his only friend. Remy pulled his arms free and shifted himself so that he leaned against the wooden headboard. The coffee mug had cooled and Remy took it in his hands. His hands glowed a faint red as he heated up the coffee. Taking a sip, he continued to stare out the window at the end of the bed.**

*********************

Logan screamed and sat up. Breathing heavily, he threw the sheet off of him and got out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around the room and then glanced at the clock on the nightstand, 9:30 AM. His heart pounded, achingly in his chest. Sweat drenched him and his clothes. He removed his muscle shirt and boxers before heading to the bathroom for a shower.

He stood under the shower head and closed his eyes. Letting the luke warm water run over him, he briefly replayed the dreams. He didn't understand how he could have been so violent towards Remy. Even after telling the kid he loved him, he had managed to betray the kid's false hopes and level Remy. Kneeling under the water, Logan couldn't help but sob long and hard in shame. He sat there crying until he couldn't anymore.

Logan had dressed himself in nice clothes and dabbed cologne on his neck. He checked himself in the mirror and then dashed out the door, down the stairs- only stopping to grab a blanket from the hall linen closet, and then made a break for Remy's grave. On the way, he bumped into and nearly knocked over Jean.

"Logan, are you ok? Where are you going? Fancy picnic? What's going on?" Jean stood in between him and the kitchen door. She had planted herself firmly in place and was going to use force if he tried to worm out of an explanation. Folding her arms in front of her, she tapped her foot on the floor and waited.

"Jeannie, I--" Logan stopped himself and thought of how to explain the past few weeks. "Come with me." He sighed outwardly and led her out to the polished stone.

"Who is this? I thought you didn't have a memory before 20 years ago. Now, you and Professor go out and find a corpse to bury on the lawn? Start talking, Logan." She watched as he had spread the blanket out and sat down beside the headstone. He patted the seat next to him, and waited for her to give in.

Logan held his breath as he thought of how to word it. He closed his eyes and just started talking. "This is Remy LeBeau. He was a kid I apparently knew in the late 20s. Anyway, about 4 weeks ago, I started havin these dreams with the kid in them. This 'dream love affair' has been goin on for three weeks. Two weeks ago, Charles and I traced his address down and brought him here. Jean, the kid and I-- err... we were...." A sheepish grin on his face.

"I understand." Jean smiled and brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"Not quite. It ended up, I killed him after I.....uhhh...." Logan rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous twitch. "Jeannie, I can't keep these dreams to myself anymore. I thought bringin him here and talkin to him would stop the dreams and the torture of his soul but, lately I've been havin nightmares of how I treated him before he died. If I could just hold him and tell him how sorry I am, I'd move the stars for him."

"If you'll let me, I'll try to help. But, I need to see what happened. Is that alright?" Jean said, nervously.

Logan nodded and sat there patiently while she viewed his memory.

 

To Be Continued, once again...........


	4. Chapter 4

Jean sat there and took in all that she saw in Logan's mind. She was quiet for a long while. Wiping her tears away, she looked over at Logan and forced her anger to subside. "If he was here now, talking to you instead of me, what do you think he'd do? What would he say if he heard what you just told me?"

Logan rubbed the side of the headstone with his thumb, and sighed before answering. "I dunno. In the last dream I told him how much I cared for him. But, I broke my promise and then broke his heart. Jeannie, I honestly don't remember 1930. And maybe the safest place for him, is in my dreams. I can't hurt him anymore. But, what happens when he needs to talk and I'm not available? He's dead, yea. I see that. It was my fault, and my recklessness that put him there. All he wanted to do was be with me. I took that away from him. How do I apologise for that? I held him once, and I don't remember it. I tasted his kisses and now I can't even remember how good he kissed. Talking to a piece of stone and a body stuffed in a packing crate ain't exactly my idea of a second chance, ya know?" Logan stopped and turned towards Jean.

"I saw Cerebro and the Danger Room in your mind, is there still a connection to him?" Jean asked, playing with a piece of grass.

"Yea, I guess. I haven't been able to talk to him since we went to Louisiana."

"Hmm."

They sat there for the rest of the afternoon and talked. They talked until dinner time, and for once, Logan had an appetite. Logan helped Jean up and folded the blanket. They walked hand in hand back to the mansion for dinner.

***********************

**Logan stumbled through the door. A bottle of Vodka in his hand. He looked around the entranceway and found half of the house's lights on, and not a sign of Remy. He heard a giggle coming from livingroom. Logan turned his head to see Remy sitting on the sofa with a young woman who was teasing and tickling Remy. She had been trying to unbutton his shirt when she noticed him coming closer. Logan growled and swayed, trying to focus his attention on the girl who was toying with his property.

The girl sat up and dropped her hands from Remy. She screamed in horror at the beast of a man who was growling and baring his teeth like a wolf might. Her white blouse had been open and she hurried to fasten it. The girl dodged Logan's attacks and ran from the house, screaming.

Logan turned his attention to the Cajun, who had huddled in a corner. Six razor sharp claws were free from his hands. He didn't care. Finding Remy, Logan pulled him to his feet and spat vile words while shaking the young man senseless. "What in the Hell was she doin here? HUH?! Did you fuck her, too?" Logan looked into red on black eyes and smelled the fear dripping off of the kid. "You did, didn't ya? Was she good?"

"Non cher! we just talk."

"Was she good, boy?"

"Logan, Please! Remy didn' fuck nobody!"

"Did ya use yer tricks on her to?"

"Logan we waitin' fo' you. She new in town."

Remy stared at the 6 claws that came within centimetres of his face. Logan had hold of the front of Remy's shirt and lifted him up off the floor. Remy was trembling. He'd never seen Logan's claws this close before. Squeezing his eyes shut, Remy had tried to control his bladder but a warm trickle spilled down his leg and onto the giant imported rug. Remy flinched when Logan let him down and shoved him to the floor. He fell back and tried to shield himself as Logan sliced away his clothes and then hoisted him to his feet again.

"Pissin yerself on my rug? Do ya need me ta clean ya up too?" Logan grunted as he retract his claws and marched a naked and shaking Remy up the stairs and to the right. He pushed Remy through the door and struggled with him to step into the bathtub. There was no shower, so Logan plugged the drain and turned the faucet to near scalding water. When Remy started to scream and whimper and try to get out, Logan held him down. Logan grabbed a brush and lathered it up with soap. He scrubbed the kid nearly raw and then reached for a pitcher and ran some water from the tap, into it. Dumping it over the kid's head, he snorted as Remy covered his face from the water. He washed Remy's hair and then poured more of the hot water over Remy. When Logan let the water out, he grabbed Remy by the arms and hoisted him out. Logan wrapped a towel around Remy and told him to dry himself, while he sat on the toiletseat lid and watched.

Remy sobbed and gingerly patted himself with the towel. It hurt. His body was red and near blistering. He eyed Logan. When he finished, he stood there and did his best not to tremble as Logan inspected him. Remy hugged the towel close to him and waited for Logan to march him into the bedroom and continue his assault or do an about face and apologise profusely.

Instead, Logan stood there and stared calmly at the tall and lanky Cajun. He forced back his rage and asked, "How long she been here?"

"In town? Two weeks. Met 'er yest'day."

"Did you fuck her?"

"Oui." Remy hung his head and lowered his gaze.

"Where?"

"On de floor. In de livingroom." Remy waited to be backhanded or become a pincushion by Logan's claws.

Logan stared at him. He took in the kid's naked, red and now blistering body. "Did you like it?"

"Oui." Remy nodded.

Logan wrapped the towel around the kid and then pushed past him and headed for the bedroom. Remy followed, cautious and confused. Logan went to his side of the bed and pulled out a small brown suitcase from under the bed. Walking to his dresser, he started packing his clothing into the suitcase.

"Where y' goin, cher?"

Logan stopped briefly. He faced his dresser and sighed. "I think it's best if we stay away from each other for awhile. We both need a rest."

"Non. Remy don' wan' y' ta leave. Please cher, don' go? Remy be so good to you, mon cher. Remy never leave yo' side." Remy stood at the end of the bed and dropped to his knees. The towel had fallen to the floor, long ago. Clasping his hands together, he pleaded with Logan to stop packing.

"It aint yer fault, kid. I just--" Logan sighed inwardly and turned around. "I need to cool off. I can't do that around you. Wonderin if I'm gonna knock ya through a wall or somethin. You need laughs, not tears. I know yer exhausted from tip-toein around me. So, I'm gonna go stay in the hotel for awhile."

"You come back, soon, cher?"

"Yea. Come on, get off the floor. Put some lotion on so yer skin don't blister too bad."

"You rub it on me, cher?" Remy stood up and sat on the bed beside Logan's suitcase.

Logan tossed the rest of the clothes into the suitcase and clasped it shut. "Not this time, baby. I uh-- I better get to town before it gets too dark." Logan leaned down to kiss the kid's lips, only to be pulled into a deep embrace. When the embrace broke, Logan went back to his dresser and tossed a red, long-sleeved button up shirt onto the kid's lap.

Remy stood and slipped the long shirt on. He sniffed the collar. It was drenched in Logan's scent. Shaky fingers fastened each of the buttons. The shirt had come down to cover his manhood by literal inches. He'd looked up at Logan before retrieving a clean pair of pants and slipping them on. He smiled at the older man and hugged him.

Walking to the gate and watching Logan close it behind him, Remy put his hands on the bars and made Logan agree to come back in 2 weeks.

"Two weeks. Promise."

"Je t'aime, Logan."

"Yea yea." Logan turned and headed for the waiting taxi on the street. Truth was, he had no intention to come back. He had thought that the kid could use a good woman to cook for him and take care of him, instead of following a drunk around like a scared rabbit.

During the two weeks, Logan hadn't touched a bottle. His appetite had greatly diminished, and he found he paced during the night. Remy was all he thought about. The kid smelled of pepper and crackers. His hair had always smelled of tropical fruit. Logan found himself reclining on the bed, lazily stroking himself through the material of boxers. He let his thoughts of Remy take over as he jacked himself off to the thoughts. Just after each orgasm, he wondered what Remy was doing, and if Remy did the same thing while wearing his shirt.

At the end of the two torturous weeks, Logan decided to take a taxi past the manner and check up on the kid before he left. He'd thought he'd take a quick look and be gone, but a cough stopped him. Standing on the porch, Logan heard a harsh yet faint cough come from inside. He listened again and heard equally faint wheezing and whimpering. Turning back to the taxi, he paid the driver and retrieved his suitcase from the trunk. Hitting the trunk lid in acknowledgement, he hurried inside and put his suitcase down beside the front door. He listened again and heard the kid barking out coughs so fast that it nearly strangled him.

Logan made his way into the kitchen and fixed some chicken soup. Walking carefully with the bowl, he headed upstairs and peeked through the bedroom door that had been open a few inches.

Remy was rolled on his left side, away from the door, and in the middle of the bed. A half full glass of water sat on the bedside table. Eventhough, it was still daylight out, the light was on. Sweat had drenched his hair and skin. A fever. A bad one.

Logan nudged the door open quietly and put the soup down on the table. He went to the bathroom and ran a rag under the cool tap water, before he returned. Logan pushed open the door and walked in. Wheezed, but even breathing told him the kid was asleep. Remy had kicked the heavy covers off and lay there in his black boxershorts. Perfect for Logan to run the cool cloth over Remy's body and try to break the fever. He rolled Remy onto his back and wiped his forehead. Dabbing at Remy's neck, he saw the kid open his eyes.

"Hey kid."

"Y' home?"

"Yea, baby. I'm home."

Remy's body shook horribly as he rolled over and curled his body while his coughed. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. His face turned red as he tried to catch his breath. When the coughs subsided, Remy forced himself to sit up and drunkenly threw his arms around Logan and hug him. "Missed you, cher. Y'eat yet? Remy fix you a nice dinner." He coughed and nearly fell over Logan and out of bed if Logan' hadn't have caught him and laid him back down.

"No. I'm not hungry. But, I made you some soup. Still hot, too. Try some." Logan helped the kid to prop himself up against the headboard and tucked a pillow behind him for comfort.

Remy lazily sat there and let Logan feed him the soup by the spoonful. Every once in a while, Remy would stop and turn his head away to torture himself with coughing fits that tended to last too long. A few times, he had had his mouthful and tried to catch it as it dribbled down his chin. Logan had also tried to help by wiping up the spilled soup and waiting patiently for the fits to quit.

When they finished the soup, Logan lay Remy back down and gathered up the forgotten covers that were hanging off the end of the bed. He tucked Remy in and then excused himself to rinse out the cloth and resume wiping Remy's body down. As Logan ran the cloth over Remy's chest and stomach, he asked how he caught the cold he suffered from.

"De car broke down, started raining. Was stranded an' 'ad t' walk home. Was days ago."

"Did you call the doc?"

"Non. Remy take care o' hisself."

A short coughing fit.

"And ya got a fever of 102. But, I'm here now. Want some more soup?"

"Non. Remy too tired, cher."

"Aight. You get some rest. I'll check on ya in a while." Logan started to get up but Remy grabbed his wrist.

"Stay. No see you in two weeks, and Remy feel awful. Please?"

"Okay. But, I'm gonna get you some fresh water and more soup." Logan grabbed the bowl and glass on the table and hurried downstairs.

As he came back up stairs, he heard coughing again and then a toilet flush. Replacing the soup and glass on the table, Logan hurried over to the bathroom to see Remy kneeling on the floor, in front of the toilet with his head draped over the bowl.

Remy heaved again. His body shook as his limbs fought to keep from collapsing.

Logan knelt beside him pulled Remy's long auburn hair out of the way. He reached up and flushed again. Remy had laid his head on his arm, as it rested on the cool plastic seat. He was asleep, again. Logan held the cloth and pulled Remy back to rest his head on Logan's shoulder. Taking the cloth, Logan pushed Remy's lips apart and wiped his mouth out with the cloth. He reached up to the sink that sat in between the toilet and the door, and tossed the cloth over the side of the bowl.

Carefully, he picked Remy up and carried him back to the bedroom. Remy breathed softly on Logan's neck and nuzzled his head into Logan's right shoulder. The kid lost weight. Or had he always been that skinny?

Logan walked around to his side of the bed and laid the still sleeping Cajun in the middle fo the bed, again. He kicked off his shoes and climbed in beside him. Pulling the comforter up around them, he held Remy tightly as they slept.**

**********************

Sitting up, Logan asked out loud to no one in particular, "Is that how you remember me? Mean and cruel and only nice when yer sick?"

He lay back down and closed his eyes.

**"Non, mon amour. I show you more." Remy's voice seeped into his mind like ooze.

New Year's Eve day, 1929. Logan helped Remy change the bedding. Remy was on his side, fixing the corner by the nightstand and Logan was on his side putting the pillows in the cases. Logan watched Remy become so swept up in the corner that he knew Remy wouldn't know what hit him if he threw a pillow at him. So, he did. Remy looked up in shock as Logan started to laugh.

Remy grabbed the pillow and took a swing at Logan. He laughed softly and backed up as Logan crawled across the bed and pulled Remy onto the mattress. They rolled around and laughed as they swatted each other with pillows before giving in and laying side by side, panting and laughing.

Another dream was of eating dinner at opposite ends of the table and sliding the Salt and Pepper shakers back and forth. Remy accidentally hit the Salt shaker a bit hard and sent it sailing off to the right before both of them watched it land on the floor. Saying "Oops" together in unison made them laugh again.

Another dream was of Logan lying naked, on his back, on the bed, and casually watching Remy ride him while Logan smoked his cigar. Logan smiled as Remy gasped and panted in slow, rhythmic thrusts. Logan tensed, taking in a mouthful of smoke, and grinned as Remy reached down and stroked himself to the same rhythm that he was riding Logan in.

Logan took the cigar from his lips and reached beside him for the ashtray. Snuffing out his cigar, and tilting his head back to blow out the smoke, he placed a hand on Remy's eager erection and the other behind Remy to massage his tailbone.

Remy gasped and leaned forward. Their pace quickened. Finally, Remy tensed and strangled a loud gasp as both his and Logan came, simultaneously. Hot, thick come spread over Logan's stomach. Remy had finished but, Logan was still coming and had started thrusting up into the near-spent Cajun.

Remy removed Logan, after the Canadian had finished his orgasm, and lay to the left, beside him. He rolled onto his side and face Logan. Logan hadn't moved. He dabbed a finger at the clear fluid on Logan's stomach and started to move it to his lip when Logan caught his hand. Taking the fingers into his mouth, he sucked on them. Logan loved the way the kid's come tasted; salty yet sweet. He sucked each one thoroughly.

When Logan had finished, he grinned again and then rolled them both so that Logan hovered over the tired Cajun. Greedily, he let his mouth suck on the Cajun's long length as a hand cupped the hairless balls beneath it. He rolled the sack around in his hand and ran his tongue up the side of the shaft. He smiled and watched Remy's expression change from amused to frenzied passion. Stabbing his tongue at the slit, he lapped at the small bit of pre-come that rose to the surface. Logan knew full well he was driving Remy crazy. He liked it that way. It had been the only time the kid's experience at having sex didn't bother him. People in that profession don't really get the chance to be pleasured. He was hard again. It ached for Remy. And he had to have him.**

***********************

Logan woke. It was mid-evening, just after dinner. He wasn't hungry. Instead, he went for a ride on his bike. He rode nearly all night. Sticking mainly to the roads on the outskirts of town. He stopped and spent an hour at the bluff, overlooking the city. Leaning on his bike, watching the city lights twinkle and fade and light up again. He thoughts replayed the past 4 weeks.

He wondered why the kid had been absent from talking to him for two weeks. He also wondered why he still couldn't remember 1930 for himself. Let alone the great relationship he had had with the cozy and calm Cajun. He sighed and started up his bike. Riding back down the hill, he had stopped for the red light. A car pulled up beside him and he watched from the corner of his eye as the two figures inside embraced and held hands. The light turned green but, he hadn't moved. He sat alone, revving his engine under the lonely street light and sighing.

Shaking off his depression, he revved the engine one last time and then headed home.

Over the next three weeks, he had made countless trips back to Port Allen to purchase the old LeBeau manner. He had found out that the afternoon before he was killed, Remy had transferred the house title to to Logan's name. And almost soon after, Logan took to restoring it and dragging all of the furniture and art out of the basement. Remy had shown him what he had to the house years after Remy was buried. He thanked the kid graciously.

When he did return to Westchester, he spent two days sleeping and watching television.

One afternoon, Jubilee walked through the livingroom, looking through the mail. "Oh, Logan, there's someone here to see ya." She said, not bothering to look up from the mail.

"Who?"

"I don't know, some guy. He said he'd wait for ya outside."

Logan got up and cautiously walked to the front door. Opening the door, he looked out to find no one on the porch. Suddenly, he eyes caught a thin figure dressed in black, with a ponytail and wearing a backwards matching baseball cap. The figure sat atop the shiny white headstone and faced away from the house.

Logan narrowed his eyes and walked closer to the figure. At first he thought it was Jean playing a joke on him. Then, he came closer. Stopping a distance behind, just off the figure's right shoulder, he growled and snapped at the figure to get off the headstone.

"Je suis desole. Didn' know de seat was taken." The voice spoke, softly but loud enough for Logan to hear the accent.

Logan's eyes widened and he hurried around to face the figure.

Still sitting on the headstone, with his legs open to help him keep his balance, sat a sunglassed, thin and auburn haired figure. Palms resting on beside him on the stone, he shrugged but kept his composure. He was dressed in black denim jeans that hugged his slim body like a second skin and matching shirt that was tucked in and pulled up to create a pillow like effect.

"Remy?!"

"Oui, cher."

"That's you?"

"Oui, cher. You miss me or somet'in?"

Logan came closer and took the young man in his arms. Hugging him and smiling as the figure hugged him back. Logan took in the kid's scent. Pepper and tropical fruit. His skin was soft and smooth. His tan had been lost but, nothing he couldn't work on.

"How?"

"Monsieur Xavier, he bring me back. After you come back from Port Allen, he an' dat machine, dey make Remy's head spin. Gave Remy dis bracelet. Never take it off. Or, poof." Remy pushed back his right sleeve and showed Logan the half-inch wide silver bracelet that curved in an odd yet symmetrical pattern, and in each space between the patterns was a different coloured diamond.

"You're here?"

"Oui, cher. You feel ok, mon amour?"

"Forever?"

"Oui. You tell Remy till your dyin' breath, mon couer."

Logan hugged Remy again and kissed him on the lips, passionately.

Remy hopped off of the headstone and let a giddy Logan lead him back to the house and inside to meet his new family.

Logan introduced him to the rest of the team and then showed him his new quarters; Logan's room.

They had sat on the bed and talked for hours about everything. And just before snuggling into each other's arms, Logan looked at Remy and asked, "I know I don't deserve this but, I'm willin to share my heart with you. If you'll have me?"

"Course, cher. Remy only need you in his life." Remy kissed Logan again and promptly fell sound asleep on Logan's chest.

 

THE END!


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